


in these streets

by humanveil



Category: Historical RPF, J. Edgar (2011), Political RPF - US 20th c., Real Person Fiction
Genre: M/M, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 05:46:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7562668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humanveil/pseuds/humanveil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not enough, but it will do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in these streets

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why I wrote this, but I studied Hoover for months and ship this shit like FedEx. My knowledge comes from traditional historical sources, but I tagged the movie just because. 
> 
> I can't believe this mess is my 100th fic (except I totally can). Hope you enjoy!

They're on vacation in the beautiful beaches of Florida, relaxing while surrounded by white sand and clear waters.

Their stay is secluded; it always is. Privately, Clyde thinks he'd prefer the busy streets of a European city, somewhere they could blend into a crowd. He knows it's a futile wish, though. Edgar liked his privacy – especially when it came to situations such as this.

He'd stopped arguing years ago. Things weren't the way he wanted, but what he wanted, what he craved… it wasn't an option. Not now, not in this society they'd helped create. Not with a man like J. Edgar.

So, he goes along with it. They book two rooms (adjoining, always adjoining), and Clyde tries his best not to scowl at the receptionist. It not his fault, after all. It isn't anyone's fault.

(There's a voice in the back of his mind that tells him the blame belongs to Edgar. He knows it's right – somewhat, at least – but he refuses to listen to it. Can't bare the thought of it).

He unpacks in his own room, and he stays there until Edgar comes to him.

(And Edgar _always_ comes, even when he doesn't want to).

The beginning of their getaway goes as it always does; tentative movements to a more casual relationship, more affectionate. The ever present stress slowly dissipates from the both of them – Edgar especially – and they relax into the comfortingly familiar presence of each other.

They continue some of their usual routine; all meals are had together, sitting across from each other with smiles on their faces. Conversation ranging from the weather to the state of the American government fills the space between them, broken sometimes by a compatible silence.

They go for long walks through the nature surrounding them. Clyde drags Edgar across the shores, the sand soft beneath their feet, the sun warm against their skin.

When the area is private enough, Edgar’s hand will reach for Clyde’s. Sometimes it's only for a moment, a touch of skin on skin, and sometimes it lasts longer. Sometimes, when he's lucky, Edgar will hold on; will intertwine their fingers together, thumb brushing against the back of his hand, and smile as they walk.

(Clyde lives for these private moments, almost as much as he lives for the nighttime visits, where skin touches skin in a way neither of them ever talk about aloud).

Their vacations were something Clyde held dear. There was still a lack on fulfilment, a void, but he'd long since learnt to deal with it. He loved Edgar; was totally, tragically in love with him. Would do _so much_ , give up so much, just for him.

In no way is it enough. But Clyde can live with it.

He has to. 


End file.
